


The Shadow In The Corner

by SBlackmane



Series: Midnight Madness [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Prompt Generator, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, POV Cole (Dragon Age), Poor Cullen Rutherford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 16:07:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16245170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBlackmane/pseuds/SBlackmane
Summary: For the prompt: Cullen Rutherford & Cole "Haunted"Cullen never sees him, but Cole is always there, finding ways to help him heal.





	The Shadow In The Corner

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, yeah, maybe I should change the name of this series to Cullen Madness.

Anxiety gripped the spirit, causing him to shift restlessly from left foot to right and back again as he stood in the corner of Cullen's office, watching him work.

He hid his pain even when no one was looking. When he thought no one was there to see it. He ached inside, all the time. Still, he stood leaning against the desk, reading a slip of parchment with a blank expression. He looked the same. He stood the same, and had the same face. Like a mask made of flesh wrapped around his head.

On the outside he was quiet.

But inside Cullen was _screaming_.

It was so loud to Cole that he couldn't take the noise, and clapped both hands over his ears.

He was drawn to Cullen's pain like a moth to flame, even though he couldn't bear the sound if it. Tears filled his eyes as he felt it as if it were his own, and a strangled cry threatened to escape him. It was so painful, like jagged cuts by a thousand shards of glass raking his skin over and over and over.

But he couldn't make it stop.

It was the one thing that would hurt Cullen more.

For a spirit to touch his mind.

It was the one thing Cullen feared the most.

They'd done it before. Not spirits like Cole that only wished to give. But spirits who _took_ , and just kept taking, and taking, until there was nothing left of the man he used to be. Just kept hurting and hurting until he screamed, begged, pleaded, cursed and cried out at the top of his lungs. Spirits that trapped him in a cage, bent and twisted.

He never wanted another spirit in his head ever again.

So Cole could only stand in the corner and watch, wringing his hands, shifting back and forth, every fiber of his being tangled in knots, stomach aching, mind reeling.

Cullen was in so much pain, but Cole didn't want to make it worse. He just wanted to help. But he couldn't.

Cullen never saw him. Most of the time he never even noticed he wasn't alone. He overlooked Cole like one might overlook a shadow near the door. When he looked at the corner where Cole stood, he looked right through Cole like he was never there. Like he was invisible. Cole didn't like it. But he couldn't make the Commander see him. The Commander didn't _want_ to see him.

Sometimes he would though. Sometimes, for a moment, he would spot Cole and say, "Oh! How'd-how'd you get in here?" In a bit of a panic. All spirits were demons to Cullen. He didn't know Cole wasn't a demon, but he knew Cole tried to help them. He was scared, but he didn't hate Cole. Just...didn't want his help. He'd often forget Cole again moments later, like he'd never seen him to begin with, and look away from the corner, back down at his papers.

Cole tugged the brim of his hat with both hands and chewed his bottom lip. Cullen hurt so much, but Cole had to find other ways to help.

He wrote notes, sometimes. Things Cullen needed to hear, but since Cole couldn't say them, he'd write them down instead. Cullen would always balk in confusion whenever he'd notice a new paper with new words, and he'd know that Cole wrote the note, look around to see if he was there, but still never see him. Forget it moments later.

And he would never listen to the notes. It wasn't quite the same as telling Cullen himself. He didn't understand without Cole peering inside and pulling at the strings all tangled up in his mind. Cullen couldn't do it either.

And sometimes the notes made it worse.

He would leave, and come back later, maybe try again.

He couldn't give up on Cullen.

Cullen needed help.

And they needed Cullen.

_Like legs under a table, they'd fall right down without him holding them up._

_But what holds up the legs?_

* * *

Cole paced back and forth listening to the Herald.

Blue eyes glaring, mouth pinched in a scowl.

"No! No no no!" he spat angrily, tearing at his blonde hair, stomping his feet.

But she never listened either.

The Anchor wouldn't let her.

She didn't see him standing in the corner, flinching when Cullen threw the Lyrium kit across the room. Cullen didn't see him either. But he watched as the box shattered on the floor, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Cullen was getting better. He was starting to listen. But it was hard. His body wanted Lyrium to heal the hurt, but it was the _Lyrium_ that hurt him and he knew that. But his body wouldn't listen to his mind. He was starting to feel better but...

Then the Herald came in and...

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," she'd said to Cullen. _Maybe he should take it_ , she thought. _He's suffering trying to do this while handling all this responsibility. Maybe he should-_

"No!" Cole had screamed. "No no no!" He stamped his foot. "That will make it worse! You can't make him! Please don't make him! Please!"

But the conversation continued, like he wasn't even there, because they couldn't hear him.

Cullen didn't want it. But he needed her to tell him not to take it. He didn't trust himself any more. His eyes lingered on the box and it's contents scattered about, before he tore himself away from the sight. But he couldn't get away from the sound. The more he tried to ignore it, the louder it sang. "Be quiet!" Cole shouted at the Lyrium, but it didn't listen to him either.

Nothing listened.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and a high pitched whine escaped him.

He didn't know what to do.

 _Some pain is good pain,_ Solas had said once. _It isn't always wise to simply take it away. Sometimes people need to feel certain kinds of pain in order to heal. Taking that away from them, making them forget that pain, will only make matters worse, Cole. But there are other ways to help them heal._

"But none of them help," he mumbled.

"You asked what happened to me in Ferelden's Circle," Cullen said to the Herald. The words finally tumbling out like water from a pitcher, sloshing and spilling. "It was taken over by abominations. The other Templars-my _friends_ -were slaughtered. They tortured me. Tried to break my mind, and I...How can you be the same person after that?!"

"They can't hurt you anymore!" Cole tried to remind him. But he didnt hear. His hurt was too loud and Cole was drowning in the noise. "They're gone now! And they won't ever hurt you again! I won't let them! Please if you would just let me help! I can make it go away!"

Cullen leaned against the window pane, throat cracked and dry, head aching, the words even worse than the pins and needles under his skin, but he had to say them.

"Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander, and for what? Hmm? Her fear of mages ended in madness!...Kirkwall's Circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets. Can't you see why I want nothing to do with that life?!"

The Herald couldn't speak her thoughts aloud. She didn't think Cullen would want to hear them, but he needed to.

"Please," Cole pleaded with her. "Say it... _Say it!_ " If she would just listen to him! Just this once! "He needs that! It's the only thing that will help!"

For a moment he thought she'd heard him, when she blinked several times and thought, 'Maybe he's right. Maybe this is what he needs.'

But..."Of course I understand, but I-"

"Don't! You should be questioning what I've done!" Cullen spat, the knots entangling themselves further within him, tightening like when Maryden tightened a loosened string on her lute. A sharp twang pinched his ears like the string had snapped inside. Cole winced at the sound. "I thought this could be better-That I could regain some control over my life-But these thoughts won't leave me! How many lives depend on our success?! I swore myself to this cause! I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry! I should be taking it!"

Cole ducked to avoid the blow that would've landed on him, and watched in horror as the Commander instead punched the bookshelf. Cullen stilled a little, but inside he was still screaming, his anger making him burn hot and bright for a moment before it fizzled. Then, the dull ache, the constant ache. The hurt. It hurt Cole to see. "Cullen," Cole whispered, reaching out, but not touching Cullen.

"I should be taking it," Cullen repeated.

"No, you shouldn't," Cole shook his head. And even if his mind didn't, Cullen's _heart_ heard him. It thrummed in his chest.

 _No, I shouldn't_ , he thought. _But if I must-_

"This doesn't have to be about the Inquisition," the Herald told him, and Cole lifted his head in surprise.

"Yes! Yes!" he exclaimed happily.

"Is this what _you_ want?" she then asked Cullen and he sighed.

"No," he admitted. Cole swayed a little, dizzy in his relief. Feeling Cullen's ever swinging emotions could be so exhausting sometimes. He breathed a sigh. She didn't tell him to not take it, but she gave him a choice. She asked what _he_ wanted. He needed that. Needed to be free. It helped. A lot. Cole was proud of her.

Cullen sighed as well, the hurt starting to ease, a little.

It always did when the Herald was near, and even if the pain didn't go away, she made him not think about it. Instead he thought about her eyes. Her smile. _So bright it could light up the darkness..._

"But these memories have always haunted me," Cullen told her. "If they become worse-If-If I cannot endure this-"

"You can," both Cole and the Herald chimed together.

"And we won't let you do it alone," Cole whispered, as the Herald left his office.

Cullen sighed and wandered back over to his desk.

Cole scooped up the Lyrium on the floor and carried it away.

He may never have seen Cole in the room, but Cullen did notice that the Lyrium was gone.

The room now blissfully quiet.

* * *

 

Cole fidgeted nervously, picking at his nails, as he watched Cullen unbuckle the pieces of his armor and set it aside, dressing down for bed. The Herald had helped him stay away from Lyrium, and he could work again. He could read reports and train the soldiers. He could go to war meetings and he'd even remembered to eat more often, but...at night, there was no Herald. There was no one at all. And no matter what anyone did, nothing would stop what came at night.

The memories that always haunted him, that would never leave him. That stuck to everything like ink to parchment, sticky and black. Permanent.

He could ignore his pain, but Cullen couldn't ignore his dreams.

Cole's heart thumped wildly in his chest when Cullen blew out the candle and settled into bed. So did Cullen's. It pounded in his hears like a hammer. He knew what was coming.

The nightmares.

These demons weren't like the ones that haunted mages in their sleep. These demons were just memories. The real demons died long ago. But that made it worse. Because there was nothing to chase away. Nothing to kill. And sometimes the memory was more real than the past. Hurt more than the real Kinloch Hold. Because there was no one to save him now. No one to let him out of the cage. Cole could let him out, could chase the memories away, beat them back for the Commander, but Cullen wouldn't want that.

He didn't want a spirit in his head.

He tossed and turned in his sleep, whimpering and crying out on occasion when the dreams came. Cole sat next to him on the bed, watching. Listening. Worrying his lip.

_How do I help without helping?_

Just for a moment, he looked inside. He didn't _go_ inside, but just took a peek, peering into the room in Cullen's mind. He saw the cage and the demons and the Templar. Alone, covered in blood. The bodies of the others scattered about. Their deaths playing over and over again in front of his eyes. The demons tempting him. "No," Cole whispered fearfully just as Cullen did, and he thrashed in his sleep. "No, please don't!"

Cole couldn't help it. He looked further. His blue eyes widening at all there was to see in Cullen's mind.

_Rolling hills covered in wheat, a warm summer wind. Honnleath. A splash as he jumps from a pier. 'I want to be a Templar.' He holds up a battered sword...Sitting across the table from Alistair, laughing at his joke. Blushing when the girl with the honey colored hair glances his way. A nudge of the shoulder. 'Go talk to her, Cullen,' Samson whispers. He shakes his head...Candles burning in the dark like the Light in the Chant._

_Screams and cries when the Circle falls...blood stained sheets. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he hides away after another Tranquil is branded. 'I'm so sorry. Maker, please forgive me.'...A hand in his hair, fingers brushing the strands and he sighs in relief. 'That feels good.'..._

Cole leaned back and out of Cullen's memories.

His mother used to sooth him at night when he couldn't sleep by petting his head. He missed her.

Once more he thrashed in his sleep and Cole's heart leapt.

Slowly and carefully he reached to touch Cullen's sweating forehead, then brush his fingers through Cullen's hair, starting to curl at the tips like it used to. "It's alright, Cullen, I'm here. You're not alone," he soothed, and pet his head. Eventually the whimpering ceased, and he stilled, nuzzling into the touch. Comforted by it. The dream started to change too. His mother giving him a little wooden mabari. He left it behind when he joined the Templars.

With a sigh, Cole bent to chastely kiss the Commander's cheek, like his mother used to.

Cullen's nightmares ceased for the remainder of the night.

* * *

Cullen rubbed the crease in his brow as he glazed over the report in his hand. The latest news from the Exalted Plains. He dipped his quill in the inkwell and penned his name at the bottom, signing off on the report.

He'd slept better the last few nights than he ever had. Ever since talking to the Herald about what happened in Kinloch it was like a weight had been steadily lifted from his shoulders. He'd been doing a lot better during the day too, able to focus his whole and complete attention on his work. Though the Herald would occasionally distract him. But those were always pleasant, and welcomed.

A smile played at his lips in thought of their last encounter.

Shifting the stack of reports around on his desk, he noticed something that wasn't there before, and blinked rapidly in surprise. Reaching out, he grasped a tiny wooden dog and lifted it to insect it.

"Maker's breath, this looks just like-"

He paused.

It looked just like the mabari his mother had given him when he was but a boy.

Where did it come from? He hadn't...

"Cole," he said aloud when he'd pieced it together. He'd almost forgotten about the young spirit that haunted Skyhold. He bristled a little at the thought. A spirit of compassion, according to Solas and the Herald. Not all spirits of the Fade were corrupted; some were benevolent in nature. Rare and precious few, but Cole was one of those spirits, they'd said. It bothered Cullen sometimes that he could peer into the minds of others, but often it was to comfort them, not harm them.

The Herald wanted him to stay, and Cullen trusted her judgement.

Cullen sighed. As odd as it was to have a spirit poking around in his head, making him feel so exposed, well, it wasn't like Kinloch. It wasn't like Cole picked and plucked at his thoughts to torment him. He grazed the little wooden toy with a thumb. That was actually rather sweet of Cole. Like a child, it just seemed so innocent of a gesture. He smiled a little in spite of it.

A shadow in the corner moved, just out of sight.

He turned to look, thinking Cole was there in the room with him.

But the corner was empty when he looked.

He was alone in the office.

He sighed again. "Thank you, Cole," he whispered.

"You're welcome," the spirit whispered back.


End file.
